Walk Into my Parlor
by modestlykeithhelm
Summary: What if there's something darker lurking behind Max's time turning powers? What if altering time is only one strand of the web? There are infinite pockets of reality but what lies in between? What happens when only world starts to unravel and mesh with another? Frequent POV switches between Max and Allen.
1. The Nightmare The Storm

**Max POV**

* * *

"Max! Come on- You have to- Please!"

My head is pounding. It sounds like a freight train's tearing through town. I can only catch bits and pieces of what Chloe's saying. Her urgent message comes through in chunks that rise above the static before dropping back down into the sea of my awareness.

"Max! I can't- You're too heavy- I know you're- You have to try!"

I'm reaching for her. Her features are hazy and I attempt to focus on her. But which Chloe is it? Am I trying to go to "now" or "then?" I don't know which direction I'm headed anymore.

"That's good, Max, just like that! Keep- Almost there!"

The lighthouse. The lighthouse. It's unbelievably bright but I think I can get my eyelids to cooperate if I try just a little bit harder. Someone's talking me. Someone other than Chloe. Unless Chloe suddenly got a man's voice. Let's be honest, I'll believe anything this week.

"For he did not know. That beyond the lake he called home. Lies a deeper darker ocean green. Where waves are both wilder and more serene. To its ports I've been. To its ports I've been. Do you understand?"

I've heard this somewhere before. Where have I heard this?

"No! I don't!"

I'm screaming but my lips are still pressed tightly together. The giant bulb on top of the lighthouse has stopped spinning. Where did it go? I try to will it back but it's not working. Everything is getting darker and I'm falling. I hear Chloe scream. As my consciousness slips away I realize this is it. Every migraine, every nosebleed was a harbinger.

I'm finally dying.

It's quiet. Chloe's screams are like a little whisper.

I'm sorry, Chlo.

I feel like I'm being rocked. Like when I was a baby. "Death is like being born only backwards."

At least she's safe. I let go and hear a shutter snap.

* * *

It's daytime? Why the fuck am I on a ferry?!


	2. Waking Up

**Alan POV**

* * *

" _They're here…_ "

"Alan, wake up."

I open my eyes with a startled gasp. I can still hear the rush of the tornado. I can feel the darkness encroaching upon the light house like a massive wave. My heart is racing and adrenaline courses through my veins. Alice's voice brings me back to reality.

"Shhh, baby, just another nightmare. Everything's fine. You dozed off."

I groan and shake my head with irritation. This insomnia is getting ridiculous and I am tired of having to be soothed like a child. I love Alice but the infantilizing tone she occasionally adopts sickens me.

"Right. Anything more than dozed off would be news for everyone."

Alice's optimism and sunny demeanor are invincible. She opens the car door and chirps at me with one foot on the deck of the ferry.

"Cheer up, handsome, we're here."

She gets out of the car. I sit for a few moments before joining her.

The first thing that hits me is the smell. It's like a pine tree crawled right up into my sinuses. The air is so clean it's overwhelming. A train rushes past as we drift beneath the bridge.

" **Welcome to Bright Falls** " is spelled out in large, plain letters. It seems ironic on a foggy day like today.

This is our first time in this town but I feel as though I've been here before. My stomach turns with dread that I cannot explain or attribute to anything. It must be leftover from my nightmare. I have to admit, hitting that hitchhiker with my car then seeing his possessed form stand again was jarring. I suppose most creative minds come with a touch of madness.

Alice is taking it all in. I can tell she's really excited. I burry my negative emotions as far down as they will go and suck it up, for her sake. She's tried so hard and the last thing I want is to make an ass of myself and mess up this trip for her. It's been so long since we've had an actual vacation.

She gives me that private smile reserved for married people and adjusts the lens on her camera.

"I want a shot of you with the town in the background. Go stand over there by that girl."

"Sure," I chuckle and I start walking. "I already got your title 'Portrait of a City Man Moments Before Getting Eaten by a Grizzly Bear.'"

I begin to lean against the railing but think better of it when I realize it's sticky with some mystery substance. I grimace and Alice laughs at me while snapping her shutter.

"Don't ruin your jacket. It's the source of your power."

"Yeah, what's left of it."

The girl is startled by the camera.

"Sorry about that."

"...That...that's ok."

It takes her a while to answer me as if she was lost in thought. I can tell she's about eighteen but she has a baby face that could pass for sixteen. Her brown hair is cut in a short bob and her cheeks are dusted with freckles.

I notice that her face is an off-white with hints of green. Some maternal instinct stirs in Alice and she comes to stand beside us.

"You feeling ok, sweetie? You don't look so good."

The girl shakes her head.

"I'm fine. I just… got a little motion sick. I don't like… traveling… very much."

I give her a smile.

"Well, you're in good company. You should have seen me the last time my manager took us all out on his yacht. Let's just say, I returned our seafood brunch to its homeland."

"Alan! Don't be gross." Alice chastises me mildly before turning back to the girl. "Chewing gum might help. I think I have some in my purse. I'll be right back."

She walks away and I take a stab at small talk.

"So-o-o, you from around here?"

"No."

The answer is firm but it arrives after a bit of thought. Odd.

"From your tone, it sounds like you're not a Bright Falls fan."

She takes a step towards me and speaks with a seriousness of someone ten times her age.

"I...just have a _bad feeling_ about this place."

We make eye contact and I wonder if we've met before. She's yet another part of the overwhelming deja vu that's been caked over me all morning. I level with her and speak way too candidly for your average stranger to stranger dialogue.

"I understand. I feel it too."

She looks like she wants to say something, like a war is raging in her head but whatever words she was going to send my way she obviously changed her mind and went back to staring at the rapidly approaching town.

It's just as well. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I don't even have to look to know it's Barry. I put the device up to my ear and walk away as a gesture of good cell etiquette. I'm talking to Barry but my mind is still on the girl.

I try my best to let it go. Odds are I'll never see her again anyway.


	3. Nothing Ventured

**Max POV**

* * *

 _This doesn't make any fucking sense._ The cars roll off onto the road and I walk behind them. I _cannot_ wait to find a place to sit down. I see a small picnic bench in the shade a little ways away. I collapse onto it with relief.

That man and his wife have pulled into traffic. They're gone. I don't even know who they are. I never got their names. Should I have told him? I shake my head. That's crazy! He would have assumed I was a psycho, tripping or both. There's no way he would have listened to me… right? I thought I was sure but now I don't know… what if he would have? Stranger things have happened.

I'm starting to think I just have a knack for picking the wrong option no matter what situation I'm in. I _could_ rewind and see what would happen if I were honest. This is not like being on the roof with Kate. I can tell I still have my powers. It's just a weird feeling I get; an energy. When it's absent, you know. I put my hand in front of me and focus my energy towards my palm.

" _Max. Stop._ "

I jolt backwards. I turn around but there's nobody there. What I'm hearing is in my head. _What the fuck?_

" _Max, do not go back._ " It's the voice from earlier. There's something warped about it like it's coming from underwater. I close my eyes and concentrate. Maybe I can reply if I just think what I would want to say. Some real Dr. Xavier shit.

 _Who are you? How do you know my name? What's happening?_

" _I don't have much time to explain. She's becoming stronger. If you use your ability it will only be to her advantage."_

 _Who's 'her?'_

" _Max, follow the writer. He can set the story straight._ "

I open my eyes again and slam my fist on the wooden table.

"Dammit!"

I'm not getting anywhere with this. I'm looking for answers but all I found are more questions. I don't know who the hell this mystery person is or if I can trust them. I guess at this point I have no other option.

I'm wandering through town. This place isn't all that different from Arcadia. They're both on the water. They both have that rural, blue collar vibe. Even the trees look similar. I turn around and gasp. A large pair of soft brown eyes are staring right through me.

 _Calm down, spazz, it's just a billboard_. I catch my breath and observe the painting. I can tell it's a buck because of the antlers. There's something in its face and its eyes that reminds me of the doe I saw in my visions. Curiouser and curiouser. Samuel told me it's my spirit animal. Is this billboard trying to tell me something about my destiny?

 _Ugh, stop reading so much into everything. It's just 'Deerfest. ' Whatever that means._ I sigh and continue walking. _It is a weird coincidence but sometimes "a cigar is just a cigar._ "

A diner! It's a good place for me to do some eavesdropping. It reminds me of the Two Whales and I hope the locals here are as fond of gossip as the people back home. I want to figure out who this 'writer' is. It's the closest thing I have to a lead right now.

I cross the street quickly when a driver comes to a stop and waves their hand at me. Good old small town hospitality. A large bell jangles when I push the door open.

"Yo, welcome to the Bad Pun Diner."

My heart jumps up into my throat. The crass tone, the facial structure, the strawberry blonde hair streaked with blue, the three bullet necklace…

 _ **Chloe?**_

"For the last time, Chloe, there's no brick wall behind you and you're _not_ a comedian." That kind face, the blue hair clasp… could it be… "Welcome to the Oh Deer Diner. You'll have to excuse my daughter. When she's at the tail end of her shift she starts to think the customers are amused by her antics. Take a seat anywhere, hun. I'll be with you in a sec."

 _ **Joyce?**_


	4. Nothing Gained

**Max POV**

* * *

I'm numb but I somehow manage to walk over to a stool at the counter and sit. _Remember, the last thing you want to do is act like something is up. Just breathe. Breathe, pay close attention to everything and try not to flip the fuck out._

Joyce has gone to check on some old dudes sitting at a booth in the back she's laughing and teasing them about "getting the band back together." _Ok, so she's still Joyce_. Chloe's cashing someone out at the register. I watch them both closely. I feel myself white knuckling my empty mug hoping to see some spark of recognition. Some small sign that the gears are turning. _Come on, guys, it's me! Please!_ My eyes sting and I look away before I have a chance to cry. Now isn't the time for blubbering.

"Draw one in the dark [1]!" I look up and see Chloe cheerfully filling my cup. She winks at me. "You look like you can use a pick-me-up."

I clutch the mug of dark elixir and inhale the scent of diner coffee eagerly.

"You have _no_ idea."

Chloe returns the pot to the warmer, surveys the restaurant to make sure no one wants anything and leans against the counter.

"Rough night?"

I take a long drink. The caffeine will be good for my head.

"The worst."

She chuckles.

"Hell yeah! Party hardy."

I roll my eyes.

"You know me, real thrasher."

"Well I don't _know_ you but I'd like to. Name's Chloe."

I feel a deep stabbing sensation between two of my ribs. _So it's true. That is what I was afraid of._ When I speak my voice is weak and shaking slightly.

"Max."

"Cute name. Well, Max, you look like you could use something to soak up whatever you had last night." She turns to the back and hollers like she was hailing a cab. "I need an order of blowout patches[2] ASAP!"

A heavily tattooed short order cook glares at her through the window.

"You keep using that phony 50's diner crap with me and I'm gonna come out there!"

 _Frank Bowers?!_ It's like our entire town was copied and pasted into a new script. The only one who doesn't have a role is me.

Chloe shrugs off his threatening statement.

"Eh, you know you love me."

He grumbles.

"You're damn lucky I do."

Joyce pipes up from the other side of the room.

"You'll both watch your language unless you want to be in love and _unemployed_."

 _What? Frank and Chloe?!_

Chloe sees the look on my face.

"It's a joke. We've just all been working together too long."

"How long is that?"

"Well for me, since I was fifteen. My parents own this place and they put me to work as soon as they legally could. Frank's been with us for… I want to say three years?"

"Four! Dumb-ass!"

"For the last time, you'll watch your mouth if you want to make it to five."

Chloe shrugs and leans in to mutter to me.

"She's bluffing, she'll never fire us."

"I heard that!"

" _How_?"

"Order up!"

"Be right back."

Chloe walks away from me and I try to process everything. Everything is all stirred together. At least Chloe and Joyce's bickering makes sense to me. I'm watching her move to the back of the restaurant and I see him, the guy from earlier.

He's coming from where the restrooms probably are. He has a set of keys in his hand and he looks… troubled. I wonder if I can stop him. _Maybe I'll get a second chance without rewinding_? He sees me and nods.

I don't know what to say so I try to convey something with my eyes. I want him to come over and talk to me.

He raises an index finger to the window. I look behind me and see his wife sitting in the car. He gives me a short wave goodbye. Then he's gone again.

"Damn."

"I take it you're a fan?"

Chloe is back and she sets a plate down in front of me.

"A fan?"

"Of him. Something, something Wake. There was a girl who used to work here. Rose. She was obsessed with him. Used to go on about him all the time. She actually kept one of those cardboard cutouts from the bookstore here before she… passed away." Chloe's face got dark for a moment. "Anyway I guess he's a really famous writer."

 _The writer!_ There is no way this is a coincidence. I know now that I need to find him again, somehow.

* * *

1\. Diner slang for "a cup of black coffee."

2\. pancakes


	5. An encounter

**Alan POV**

* * *

I fasten my seatbelt as Alice throws the car into "drive" and pulls off of the ferry. I see that girl in the rearview mirror. She's watching us drive away and her expression is pensive.

"We need to stop at the local diner to get the cabin key from the landlord. A Mr. Samuel Taylor. He's waiting for us."

I nod at Alice though I was admittedly only half listening.

"Sounds good."

I watch the buildings roll past. They seem tired and bleak. I sincerely hope that the cabin offers a more uplifting view. Right now it feels like waking up out of one bad dream into another.

We pull up in front of the restaurant. It's exactly what I thought it would be like. The **Oh Deer Diner.** _Cute._ The exterior is painted a faded shade that may have once been aquamarine and it's furnished with the typical amenities: a newspaper vending machine spitting out the local weekly, a neon 'open' sign with an obnoxiously loud hum, and a banner boasting 'Best cupcakes in Pacific Northwest.'

Alice pulls to a stop and I wait for a tractor trailer to pass before opening my door.

"I'll go fill her up while you get the key. I'll pick you up here in, say, fifteen minutes?"

"Sure."

I snap the door shut behind me and check my pocket to make sure I have my wallet. I don't plan on spending any money but I carry it everywhere and it has become a habit to check that it's on my person frequently. Alice leans over and speaks to me sweetly through the rolled down window.

"Alan, thank you for coming here with me."

My mind is elsewhere so I answer out of reflex, not fully engaged in the conversation.

"I love you too. Go on. I'll promise to behave."

A large bell announces my arrival. I'd forgotten there are still places like this — towns where everybody knew everybody.

The interior is just as cliched as the outside. The floor is a blue and white checkerboard tile. Booths line the walls. The seats are done up in red vinyl that looks exceedingly uncomfortable. I can spot a couple slapdash repair jobs done in duct tape. There are few dingy light bulbs but the place is primarily lit by at least four plate glass windows with blinds slightly lowered like half-lidded eyes.

One large U shaped counter dominates the center of the room. It's where the old truckers drink their black sludge between hauls. It's where the middle aged waitress stands guard over the till and watches everyone like a hawk. I can see her now serving a police officer a few feet from me. She's blonde with heavily lined eyes. Her dark red uniform compliments the curves that she seems to have borrowed from a younger woman. The sheriff is clearly enamored but the gold band on her left ring finger says he hasn't got a chance. She has an honest look about her.

I step up the counter and patiently wait my turn when a placard on the wall catches my eye.

I read it outloud to myself without meaning to.

"In loving memory of Rose Marigold. 11/03/1989 - 10/11/13." _Only twenty four._ "Rose...Marigold. That's quite the name."

"She was quite the girl." I turn sharply to see the waitress from a moment ago has moved to stand in front of me. She's wiping her hands on her apron with a far away look in her eyes. The corners of her lips are turned up slightly. Whatever memory she's pulling up, it's a good one. "Always smiling, laughing, chattering a mile a minute. She could get on my nerves sometimes but she was one of my best employees."

"Hmm. What happened to her?" It occurs to me how nosy I'm being moments after opening my mouth. "I mean, if it's ok to-"

"Oh, it's fine. There are no secrets here. Especially when a local girl gets shot in a bathroom over a drug deal gone wrong." _Shot? In a bathroom?_ "I can tell what you're thinking. I can't quite believe it happened, myself. It all seems so...out of character for someone like her. I never would have thought she'd be involved in anything like that."

I nod the way you're supposed to when someone tells you something like this.

"A real tragedy."

"Well, sir. You would know all about tragedy." I tilt my head to the side inquisitively and she raises her eyebrows at me. "Unless I am completely off my rocker, you are that young girl's favorite author."

I rub the back of my head.

"I'm flattered. I hope you wouldn't mind keeping my being here between the two of us? I was hoping to lay low…"

She hold up a hand.

"Say no more. I understand. I don't think I could handle being in the public eye, myself. Everyone always wants a piece of you."

I chuckle.

"Precisely."

"So, I presume you came in here to do more than just shoot the breeze with me. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for Samuel Taylor."

"Of course. He stepped out for a moment but he should be back soon. Can I get you a cup of joe while you wait?"

"No thanks. I think I'm all coffeed out for the day. Would you mind if I used your restroom?"

"Go right ahead."

I move around the left side of the room to avoid a bored looking teenager bussing a table. Being spotted so early on is not a good sign. However this woman has common sense and knows to be discreet. I just have to hope she's the only one who recognizes me.

"Do me a favor, sonny. I could really use a tune right now. "Coconut," number six on the jukebox!"

I smile at the old man and take the quarters from his outstretched fist. He's wearing a battered leather jacket over his black tee shirt and an eye patch on his wrinkled face. His companion is dressed just as eccentrically. They fit in with the scenery in an eerily appropriate way. I take mental notes on everything about their appearance and mannerisms hoping to find some inspiration or a cure to my writer's block: art imitating life.

"I'd do it myself but both my legs have gone to sleep. Bad circulation, yeah!"

His friend and the teenage waitress both groan loudly as I load the coins into the machine.

"Are you serious?" She calls from across the room. "That's it, I'm revoking your license to rock."

Even at my best, I couldn't have planned out better banter if I tried.

The restroom is at the end of a long hallway. A fluorescent bulb flickers rapidly, obviously not long for this world. I rapp on the wooden door twice before going in.

It's plain and clean. I catch a whiff of lemon scented air freshener. There's one regular stall and one handicapped. I approach the ceramic sink and toss some water on my face.

I stand there for a while trying to collect my thoughts. I'm suddenly feeling tired as if every one of my actions is taking a larger amount of effort than normal. My legs are sore as though I've been wading through thick mud and my head has begun to throb. _Maybe it's more serious than writer's block and sleep deprivation? I wonder where I can subtly find out what the symptoms of depression are._

All at once I feel a stabbing sensation in my temple. I choke and rock back on my heels. I hear a whining in my ear and some voices.

" _I always wanted my life to be special...an adventure...but not without you…"_

 _Buzz Buzz_

" _We were meant to be together at this exact moment in history"_

 _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

" _...think that Rachel was somewhere behind the scenes, fighting for justice."_

" _...We all owe Rachel Amber."_

 _BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ._

" _ **...**_ _You said we would be safe at the lighthouse."_

 _ **BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ**_ _ **BUZZ**_

" _...I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE THIS IS REAL, BUT THIS IS HAPPENING BECAUSE OF ME."_

* * *

My daydream ends as quickly as it started.

"Whoah."

I rub my sleeves. I check for my wallet again. Anything I can do to ground myself. I feel like I've just gotten back from another world and I'm experiencing something akin to...motion sickness. I wonder how long I've been in this bathroom. Samuel must be back by now. I go to the leave the bathroom. That's when I see the woman in black.


	6. Something Wicked

**Alan POV**

* * *

She's dressed like she's just come from a funeral, specifically her own. She isn't wearing anything that isn't black. The small hat that sits atop her head is decorated with a thin veil that hangs over her face. There's a certain smell to her: all the stereotypical old lady scents with an extra dose of mothballs and...something else I can't quite place. Looking at her gives me chills the same way thinking about spiders leaves you feeling as though one is crawling on you at that very moment.

"Samuel couldn't make it. Unfortunately, he was taken ill."

Even her voice is unsettling. It has a creakiness and crackling hanging at the tail end of each word. I subconsciously take a step backwards.

"But I have the key for you, and instructions on how to get to the lake."

She holds out the key and a slip of paper with a knobby fist. Her veins are highly visible through her pale, almost translucent, skin. They draw a road map that runs up her wrist and disappears under a heavy sleeve.

"Okay…"

I reach out and take the items from her, not wanting to get any closer than I absolutely have to. Her fingers are even colder than I anticipated and an electric current shoots through me when they graze against my palm though the contact is brief.

"I wish you a good stay in my cabin. I'll come by later to check how you've settled in."

My eyes fall on her lips. They are ugly, thin slips of flesh. They are extremely chapped with a small cold sore adjacent to the cupid's bow. She's wearing a pale lipstick but I can see touches of blue underneath like a corpse.

She continues.

"And to meet your wife."

It's a simple statement that hits me like a punch to the kidney. I feel the strongest urge to go find Alice as soon as possible. I stare into her eyes. My mouth is still hanging open like a fish flopping around on a dock.

"I insist."

"...thanks."

It's all I can manage to say. I turn and walk back the way I came. I can hear her still speaking to me over my shoulder but I do not turn around.

"Cauldron Lake is a special place, _very_ inspiring.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I emerge from the dimly lit backroom.

"You got lucky this time, young man. You can hurt yourself in the dark."

I simple walk past the strange shivering woman. She's clutching a lantern and staring down the passage. Part of me wonders what she means but I've had my fill of strange occurrences and all I want to do is collapse into bed.

I'm looking out the window for Alice and I see her, the girl from earlier. She's sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee. She's watching me. I wonder how long she's been doing so. She looks like she wants something. There's an unspoken question hanging between us. Equal parts concern, curiosity and desperation.

I can't do anything about this now. The frightening hag, the mousy woman with the lantern, and this...girl. It's becoming too intense for me and I just want out. I gesture outside and just keep walking. She becomes crestfallen and if I was in a better frame of mind I might have felt bad. As it currently stands...I don't really care.


	7. Taking a Ride

**Max POV**

* * *

Chloe waves goodbye to her mom and we walk out of the diner together. She unties her apron as we go.

"Another day, another dollar."

"Yeah, thanks for inviting me to hang out with you."

"No prob, Bob. Besides, I couldn't pass up the chance to check out the cool mystery chick from out of town."

I try not to show the hurt on my face as we walk to a car in the parking lot. Chloe pulls the keys from a pocket in her skirt and unlocks it. It's a reasonable four door sedan, not what I would picture Chloe behind the wheel of.

"Is this your ride?"

"Umm...yes and no. It's my mom's but she lets me use it from time to time. I just have to come give her a ride home when she closes at eleven. I'd die to have my own car but I can never seem to scrape the funds together."

I swallow as I slide into the passenger seat, the image of Chloe hooked up to a ventilator flashing through my mind. _Maybe that's not such a bad thing._

Chloe nonchalantly unbuttons her dress to reveal a tank top and shorts she was wearing underneath. She throws her uniform in the back and climbs in on the driver's side.

"And we're off! I'm taking you to my special place. I have a feeling you're gonna dig it."

We head towards the highway, the diner fading away into the distance.

I glance over at Chloe for the third time. She seems like she's in a good mood. She's driving a bit more slowly than normal. But overall her personality seems about the same. _Thank God_.

I think back to that afternoon when we were in her ginormous pickup making our getaway from Blackwell and Nathan Prescott's fists of fury. I still can't wrap my mind around all the strange things that have happened between then and now. It doesn't seem real. To be honest I'm starting to wonder if _anything_ has been real _eve_ r. Maybe I'm just insane.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

Chloe flashes her impish grin.

"I'm just teasing you." She winks. "Besides, I don't mind you staring. I know I'm hot."

I roll my eyes.

"And _so_ modest."

"Ah, yes. One of my finer attributes."

"I do like the streaks in your hair."

"Thanks! I did 'em myself. I wanted to go full-on punk rock and dye my whole head."

"You should." I interject "You would look so good with blue hair."

"Dude! That's what I'm saying but my mom-ster wasn't having it."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Some shit about it not looking professional. Bull! As if the fisherman and hicks that come in there give a damn." _There's that Chloe temper._ "Anyway my dad stepped in, like he always does, and 'proposed a compromise.' The rest is history."

I look down at my lap and adjust the straps on my camera bag. I'm smiling. Even in this jacked up alternate universe where we've never met, where I don't even technically exist…talking to her still feels so natural. Call me a sentimental fool but it gives me hope. Like maybe we're somehow really meant to be together.

Chloe hits a button on her radio and a soft male voice drifts out of the speakers.

 _To all of you...American girls...It's sad to...imagine a world...without you._

"I love this song."

Her eyes brighten.

"No shit. I thought I was the only one! I swear everyone in this town has piss poor taste. This is why I need to pick up more cute tourists."

I lean back in my seat.

"So, not to sound completely lame but tell me more about yourself."

I want to understand this Bizarro Chloe. Maybe if I can find out more about her, identify the bits and pieces that got changed...maybe I can get us back home somehow….

Ok. I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know where we are or how we got here and I have no idea how this writer is supposed to help me but I'll figure it out as I go. It can't hurt to ask all the questions and gather all the information.

"Ummm...ok? I was born March 11th, 1994. My dad's name is William. You met my mom at the diner...I have a weird phobia of trains. Don't ask me why….Um what is it you want to know exactly?"

"Do you…."

My voice trails off. _Shit, Max, how do I word these questions without sounding like a total weirdo?_

"Do I...have a girlfriend?"

"Huh?"

"What you were struggling to ask. I thought I'd help you out there. The answer's 'no' by the way. Not anymore."

"Oh," typical Chloe stepping in to save me when I'm sticking my awkward foot in my awkward mouth "but you did?"

"Yeah." She seems quieter now and less cheerful. "Rachel. You would have liked her."

I steel my nerves before asking this next question. I'm terrified of the answer.

"What...happened to her?"

Chloe becomes less serious.

"Nothing. She just moved away. Finally got out of this crummy town. We tried to do the long distance thing for a while but it just didn't work out."

"Oh! I'm sorry." I couldn't be more relieved. It sucks that Chloe got left behind but...Rachel's _alive_ here and William is too.

"Don't be. We're still friends. Besides, I get to go on this fun little adventure with you."

"Yeah." Despite the circumstances I'm actually having a nice time. "Do you have any other friends who are closer?"

Chloe nods.

"There are a couple cool people here. There's Warren. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed but he can fix anything in a car. He's saved this shit-mobile from the scrap heap more than once. Victoria's super shy but sweet, and there's Nathan. His family is poor as dirt but he is hella nice. If you're not busy later you could come hang out with us. There's a bar on the outskirts of town that doesn't card minors."

"That sounds like fun."

 _Ok; a dumb Warren, a sweet Victoria, and a poor but kind Nathan? I have to see it to believe it._

"Well, here we are." The car comes to a stop and Chloe unbuckles her seat belt. "My favorite spot: the lighthouse."


	8. The Plunge

**Mixed Chapter: Alan and Max**

 **Alan**

I slip into the vehicle, attempting to look casual.

"Mission accomplished. The key, and the directions."

"My hero. I got some flashlights, just in case."

I nod at the cylindrical device she placed in my hand. Very practical and very Alice. We pull away from the diner and I buckle my seat belt.

 **Max**

"So? Whattcha think?"

Chloe's watching me as I climb out of the car. The lighthouse is just on the other side of a wooden bridge. I feel tiny standing here in front of it.

"It's...beautiful."

Chloe claps twice.

"Haha, yeah. Called it. I was thinking, since you're a photographer, you could get some killer shots. The sun is just about to set. I think it's called-"

"The golden hour."

"Whoah! Mind reader, much?" _Chloe, you have no idea._ "Wanna go check it out?"

"Sure."

I follow her a few steps. When my sneaker touches the first wooden plank, I freeze. _Wait a minute. The lighthouse._ Images flash in front of my eyes like snapshots of someone else's life. I can see blinding rain. I can hear the wind howling. _This is where we were going when...whatever is that happend to us happened. Maybe this is where I need to be?_

"Hey," Chloe is waving a hand in front of my face "space cadet. You in there?"

"Oh! Sorry."

"No worries. Not a fan of heights?"

I look down at frothy water and the jagged rocks. I think back to the storm, walking down the street cluttered by debris, seeing that fisherman die… What if we can't go back? What if we _can_? I feel my stomach shrivel up inside me. I'm scared.

"Uhm. Yeah. Not a fan of...heights."

"Here." I glance up at Chloe's outstretched palm. "I got yah." I swallow and grab her hand, our fingers lace together and they fit like puzzle pieces. "Just one step at a time. We can do this."

I giggle nervously.

"I'm surprised you're not teasing me. You know, for being such a wimp?"

Chloe shrugs.

"Eh, too expected. Plus I'm glad I got an excuse." She brushes the top of my thumb lightly with hers.

We get to the other side but I don't let go. Chloe doesn't either. I'm not sure what my next step is but whatever happens I will _always_ hold on to her.

 **Alan**

"Can you believe this place?" I turn back to Alice. I was staring out the window when she suddenly resumed the conversation. "This would make a wonderful setting for a book."

"We're supposed to be on vacation, Alice. I'll figure it out when we get back home. Okay?"

I'm trying to be patient but my tone is strained. Fortunately she relents.

"Okay. We can talk about this later."

She turns on the radio to fill the silence and I go back to staring out the window.

I don't want to talk about it. Once upon a time, I was successful writer, but that was a long time ago. I haven't been able to write a word in two years — not since my last book.

We arrive at the lake right as the sun is about to go down, the "golden hour." When you're married to a photographer, you pick up some of the lingo. In the medical world it refers to the first hour after a trauma. It's the most critical to the survival of the patient. It makes sense. I feel like I'm standing at the crossroads of something monumental, something larger than myself.

"Wow. It's gorgeous, Alan!"

"It's something, alright."

I grab a bag and follow her across the bridge to the cabin.

 **Max POV**

I'm a few feet away from the edge. The waves crash into the shore.

"Steady as she goes." Chloe is walking behind me, urging me forward. "I know you're not a fan of heights but the view is worth it."

I look out across the water. The sun is even lower in the sky now and it's casting the most beautiful colors I've ever seen: golds and purples and blues… The wind wisps against my cheeks.

"Chloe…"

She places a hand on either side of my waist to steady me.

"Just breathe, Max. You're doing great. A real trooper. Didn't I tell you the view would be worth it."

"You weren't lying."

"Wanna get a little closer?"

"Uhm...ok, I guess. Just don't let me fall."

"I got your back, Mad Max."

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.

"I trust you."

Before I realize what's happening, I pass out.


End file.
